Wild West Wedding (River's End Ranch Book 9)

by Caroline Lee

  This was stupid. You don’t even like him, Dink! Try to remember that.

  Still, she supposed there was no reason she couldn’t at least be polite. When he emerged, she extended a peace offering, gesturing with her own full mug towards the counter. “Coffee’s ready. And Ellie must’ve gone shopping for us, because the fridge is stocked with powdered donuts and cookies.”

  When he didn’t answer, she glanced at him despite her attempt to remain aloof. That wide, expressive mouth was turned down in a frown, and his elegant nose was actually wrinkled in disgust.

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t like coffee. And that much sugar in the morning…?” His lip curled dismissively and he bent over to open the fridge. Dink’s gaze went right to his flannel, PJ-pants-covered rear end, and stayed there while he rummaged.

  “Looks like Will helped with the shopping.” Jace emerged holding two eggs and a carton of juice. “He got my favorite brand of OJ.”

  “You have a favorite brand of orange juice?”

  “Sure.” He brushed against her on his way to the stove.

  “Of course you do,” she muttered under her breath. “And who doesn’t like coffee?”

  He shrugged and cracked the eggs into a pan he’d found in a lower cabinet near the stove. “It’s bitter.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s bitter. That’s why God invented sugar. And tablespoons.”

  He hummed, but didn’t look up from scrambling the eggs. “I don’t remember that part in the Bible.”

  Gosh, how’d he managed to look so hot first thing in the morning? He was wearing flannel PJ pants for goodness sakes. She looked like a disaster area, and she knew it.

  Without interrupting his smooth motions, Jace flashed a quick smirk her way. “Although, I suppose that philosophy explains how you can start your day by filling your body with something like that.” He nodded towards the half-eaten powered donut sitting on the crumbled napkin beside the coffee maker, and Dink resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

  As he spooned the eggs onto a plate, she defiantly took a big bite of sugary, doughy goodness. “No coffee, no sugar…” she began, spraying powder across the counter, “How do you live with yourself?”

  A quick smile flitted across his lips, but then his mouth settled back into its typical wide, solemn line once more. He didn’t look up, and Dink was glad for it. She spent the time looking at him instead.

  Yesterday he’d been the very picture of an off-duty accountant in that fine tailored shirt with the rolled-up sleeves, and the loafers on his feet. This morning though… This morning he was barefoot, in a set of dark-plaid PJ pants, and a t-shirt. The t-shirt was ash gray, and perfectly defined the pectoral and bicep muscles yesterday’s button-up shirt had hidden. How? How had it managed to hide that much glory? And why in the world would he want to?

  How do you live with yourself? Dink knew that if she lived with him, she’d have him parade around every morning, dressed this wonderfully casual. How could he manage to look so magnificent first thing in the morning, when she felt like a waif in her well-worn fleece robe?

  “I just happen to believe one should start the day with a healthy dose of protein.” He slid the fluffy eggs onto a plate, then grabbed a fork and his glass of OJ.

  “Well, no sugar for breakfast doesn’t sound like much fun.” She followed him towards the tiny house’s front door and out onto the porch.

  “I’m happy, though.”

  “No sugar?” she grumbled. “Do you have any vices? Alcohol? Tobacco?”

  The frown he gave her, as he settled his hips against the railing and placed the juice down, was enough of an answer. Dink shrugged, and settled into one of the two chairs. She couldn’t blame him; she thought both vices were kinda gross herself.

  “So, no vices at all, huh?” She tucked her legs up under her robe, pleased now for its warmth since it the morning autumn air was so chilly.

  “Well…” Jace lifted a bite of eggs to his mouth, and she watched his lips curls around the fork, and then at the long, dark column of his throat work as he swallowed. “I wouldn’t say no vices.”

  And that’s when his gaze raked her from the top of her still-messy hair to the tips of her toes which were peeking out from under her robe. Dink’s eyes went wide and she resisted the urge to curl in on herself. What was that look supposed to mean? Was he teasing? Was he hinting that he found her somehow attractive?

  She took a big gulp of coffee, holding the cup protectively in front of her with both hands, as she attempted to slow her pulse. Calm down, Dink. You don’t even like him. He certainly doesn’t like you, remember?

  Logically, she knew it was the truth. But apparently her brain was having some trouble convincing her body, judging from the way her heart was pounding and her legs felt a little squiggly. He’s just saying that because you’re a woman and he’s a man and you’re stuck together—

  And that’s when her mind started skipping ahead to other ways they might be together, and she groaned aloud.

  “You okay?” he asked around a mouthful of eggs, but she refused to look at him.

  “You’ve got plenty of vices,” she blurted out, in an attempt to convince herself.

  She heard the grin in his voice when he asked, “Oh yeah?”

  “You’re too restrained. Stuck-up. Punctual.”

  He snorted. “How would you know? And being punctual is the sign of a well-ordered mind.”

  “Did you just imply that I have a disorganized mind?”

  “Well, I have no way of knowing if you’re punctual. But disorganized…?” He sounded as if he were a few heartbeats from laughter, so she glanced at him. Sure enough, his expression was his usual serious one, but something danced in those creamy-brown eyes.

  Stop it. She had to stop finding things to admire about him.

  “Well, you’re too uptight. You need to loosen up, relax a little.”

  “You’re too impulsive. Brash. Messy.”

  “A messy house is a sign of character.”

  “What kind of character?” He took a sip of OJ.

  She had to lift her mug to hide her own smile. “Interesting character, I’m sure.” Sparring with him was fun. Maybe because she didn’t like him very much?

  “Well, you’re certainly a character.” He eyed the teal ends of her hair, but his lip was curled up a bit, so her feelings weren’t hurt. “But impulsivity that keeps you from commitment isn’t a positive thing.”

  “How would you know? Have you ever, ever, done anything really impulsive?”

  “What, like pack up everything into some bins and drive across the country in a beat-up car that was on its last legs?”

  “Yes.” She raised a brow, hoping to challenge him the way he did her. “Like that.”

  “No.” Jace took another drink of the juice, his denial abrupt.

  “You should. It builds character.”

  His throat worked as he finished the last of his OJ, and stared down at the empty glass in his long-fingered hand. “Well,” he said finally. “You’d be proud of me then.”

  “Oh yeah?” She turned to look out over the railing at the river she’d heard rushing by all night. “You’re going to start leaving your dirty socks piled at the end of the bed? You’re going to take up fire-breathing? You’re considering the possibility of maybe, just maybe leaving your shirt untucked?”

  “I just accepted a job interview.”

  That was unexpected enough to drag her gaze back to his, and she was surprised to find him staring at her, as if waiting to hear her reaction. Her throat went dry. All she could think to ask was, “Where?”

  “Here.”

  “At the ranch?”

  “Yeah.” He put down the glass and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Dink, who was still watching him, was sad to see his pecs covered, but decided to enjoy the sight of those sinewy forearms—Down, girl. You don’t like him, remember?

  His gaze flicked out over t
he river. “This place used to be my favorite place in the whole world. I’d come here in the summers, even once I got too old for the camps. Will used to convince his dad to hire me on as one of the counselors, and I came here up until grad school.”

  He wasn’t looking at her anymore, and Dink used the time to study his profile. “Sounds nice.”

  “It was. This place was kind of like a—a home.” She wondered what that verbal stumble had hidden. It wasn’t like him to stammer. “But I hadn’t considered working here full-time. I wouldn’t, except…”

  “Except?” she prompted, when he trailed off.

  “My company has been failing for a while. It officially closed its doors a few weeks ago, and I’ve been looking for a new job. I’ve had a few interviews, but there are now out-of-work accountants with more experience than me floating around Moscow, and—”

  “And there can’t be that many accounting jobs in Idaho.”

  A smile flashed across his lips again, and he met her eyes. “Exactly. We’re a specialized breed.”

  “You’re a special something, that’s for sure.”

  Oh shoot! He was smiling for real now, showing off those perfect white teeth. She really needed to stop noticing things like that.

  “So Will set up an interview with his oldest brother, who apparently actually needs a new accountant. We all think that maybe since I have a connection to this place…”

  Dink sighed, and took a sip of the cooling coffee, her gaze back on the river. “I agree. If I were in charge of hiring for a place like this, I’d rather focus on people who had a connection to it. People who loved it.”

  They were both silent for a while, as they watched the way the river tumbled over and around the rocks that lined the shore at the bottom of a steep, grassy slope.

  “I do love it. This spot? Used to be more wooded.” There were clumps of trees Dink didn’t recognize, but the area between the house and the bank had been landscaped. “We used to camp here and upriver a bit, where the reception will be.”

  “It sure is pretty.” She wasn’t really a nature-y person, but she could appreciate beauty when she saw it.

  He took a deep breath of the clear, cold mountain air. “I saw that text from Will this morning, then read Wade’s email, and realized for the first time in a long time, I knew exactly what I wanted. I hadn’t researched it, hadn’t debated any pros and cons…I just knew. I want to work here at River’s End Ranch. Like I used to.”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “Wow, Jace. That does sound impulsive. I’m proud of you.”

  He didn’t tear his eyes away from the river, but smiled in response, a flash of white against his darker skin. “I think I’ve got a chance, too. Only problem is my name.”

  “Jace?”

  “It looks terrible on a résumé.”

  She burst into laughter over that ridiculous comment. “I thought your name was Jason?”

  “It is. Will was the only person who had the guts to give me a nickname when we were kids; I towered over everyone, and most of them were afraid of me. But he called me ‘Jace’ that first year we were at camp here together, and it stuck. And once one Weston started calling me that…”

  “All of them did. Yeah, I can imagine.” Dink tried to hide her smile. “And now all of the rest of the ranch will call you that, no matter how professional and uptight you try to appear.”

  “Yeah.” He sounded like it was the end of the world, and she snorted into her coffee.

  “What?” he asked defensively. “Oh, like ‘Dink’ is any better? What kind of name is Dink, anyhow?”

  “Well, it’s technically ‘Dinky’, but it got shortened…”

  He snorted. “’Dinky’ isn’t any less dumb than ‘Dink’, you know.”

  She had to admit that he was right. Dink shrugged. “Ellie and I have an older—and much bigger—brother. I have the dumbest name in the creation of dumb names, and he started to call me ‘Dinky’ when I was a kid, since I’m so much shorter. It stuck, and luckily, I didn’t get any taller.” She knew how to laugh at herself, at least. She’d been laughing at herself for years, a skill Jace obviously lacked.

  But he wasn’t laughing now. In fact, he just raised one perfect brow and said, “Go on.”

  “Go on with what?”

  “You can’t tell me that you have the world’s dumbest name, and leave it at that. You’ve got to tell me what it is now.”

  “No.”

  “I told you mine.”

  “Jason isn’t a dumb name.”

  “No, but ‘Jace’ is a dumb nickname, and you already call me that.”

  He had a point. “Lloyd,” she blurted out before she lost her nerve.

  “Lloyd what?”

  Did he not understand? “That’s my name. Lloyd.”

  Judging from his expression, no, he didn’t understand. “I thought your last name was Redfern like Ellie?”

  She couldn’t help giggling. “No, I mean…my name is Lloyd. Lloyd Millicent Redfern.”

  Jace blinked. Then he blinked again, and his lips curled up into one of his genuine smiles. She really liked those smiles, but it was a little irritating to know he was only smiling like that because he was laughing at her.

  “Your actual name is actually Lloyd Millicent Redfern?” She nodded, and he burst into laughter. “No wonder you go by Dinky! Dink’s a heck of a lot better than Lloyd!”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed even harder.

  Shoot. He was even better-looking when he laughed. But no lady liked to be laughed at.

  “Hey, hey, mister.” She scowled at him until he got himself under control. “Enough making fun of me, Jace. Let’s change the subject.”

  “Alright.” He swiped at his eyes, which had actually teared up from him laughing so hard. “To what?”

  “Well, we’ve got nine days ‘til the wedding, right? You know, the wedding we’re supposed to be here planning? So what’s on the agenda for today?”

  “Agenda?” He straightened. “You’re asking about agendas?”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, agendas aren’t particularly impulsive or rash, Lloyd.”

  “Don’t call me that. And I can use agendas when necessary.”

  “Be careful! Soon you’ll be picking your dirty socks off the floor too.”

  Dink stuck her tongue out at him once more, then finished off her sugary coffee as he fished his phone—with his lists on it—out from the pocket of his pants.

  Later, they went back inside and began going over the list of things that needed to be accomplished before Will and Ellie’s big day. It felt…nice. Like they were good at working together. Which was dumb, because they were total opposites. But still, he seemed more relaxed than he had yesterday, and she… Well, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  Maybe being stuck working with him for the next nine days wouldn’t be the end of the world, after all. Maybe.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jace finished stringing the hammock up between two redcedar trees by the shoreline and climbed in. How many times each teen-aged summer had he come here, or to a spot like this one, and spent an hour swinging and watching the water? Even then, the way the river had rushed past had soothed him, reminding him that while he couldn’t control every aspect of his life—back then he could barely control anything!—time and nature would smooth out all the boulders.

  He’d never loved the river the way Will had, but that was okay. Jace was content to watch it, to be soothed by it. It was the camping—the waking up to cold summer mornings and starting the fire for bacon—that he really loved. He liked the hiking, and the solitude, and the peace the ranch had represented. And to a kid who had such little peace at home—or wherever he happened to be living at the time—the two months he’d spent at River’s End Ranch each summer were golden.

  Today had been spent with Will, which was nice. Jace had ridden the rapids on a half-day tour, and then the two friends had hung out
at the boat house and reminisced while throwing sticks for Indy.

  Will was worried about his brother Wes; apparently the practical-joke-loving older man had run off to Oklahoma or Nebraska or someplace—Will had never been keen on details—to chase after the woman he claimed was the love of his life. He had less than a week to make it back before the wedding, but Jace pointed out that Wes had promised to be there, so he would be.

  Reassured, Will had found an extra hammock and presented it like it was manna from heaven. And although he’d never admit it, Jace was touched his friend had remembered how much he enjoyed just swinging in a hammock beside the river.

  Jace stacked his hands behind his head and pushed off the ground, setting the whole thing swinging lazily over the grass and rocks. The crisp, cold water rushed by only a few feet away, and he wondered if Dink had seen the rafts go by that afternoon. He’d resisted the urge to wave when their raft had shot past the tiny houses, because…well, that would be dumb.

  Still, it was a good bet that she was in the house now, right up the slope. He’d dropped Will off at home and said hello to Ellie, but Dink hadn’t been there. Jace didn’t ask about her either, knowing that his friends would try to read something into it.

  He told himself there wasn’t anything to read into. He and Dink were about as opposite as two people could be, and it wasn’t as if they actually liked each other. It’s just that they’d spent the last three days in close contact, and he’d gotten used to seeing her. Like a habit.

  A potentially bad habit.

  To keep from thinking about his upcoming interview with Wade, he’d thrown himself headlong into the wedding planning. In the last three days, he and Dink had met with the florist and the baker and the pastor. There’d also been two meetings with Lily—the ranch event planner—and one of those had included a conference call with the company that was providing the old-timey cowboy wear for Will and the men. If this wedding was going to be a publicity stunt, then they were going all-out for it.